


Mine

by draculard



Category: Star Wars: Thrawn Ascendancy Trilogy - Timothy Zahn
Genre: Dom!Ba'kif, M/M, Rope Bondage, Shibari, Spreader Bars, sub!Thrawn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:00:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27707299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/draculard/pseuds/draculard
Summary: Every different type of knot had its own meaning.
Relationships: Ba'kif/Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo
Comments: 3
Kudos: 38





	Mine

Every different type of knot had its own meaning. That was what elevated _chi’bari_ from a form of sexual release to a true work of art, unique to everyone who touched the ropes. 

The rope Ba’kif had chosen was coarse and rough, made of traditional fibers that yielded perfectly to Ba’kif’s grip and dragged across Thrawn’s skin on the border between pleasure and pain. He lay still, every inch of him malleable and at ease, allowing Ba’kif to position him and manipulate his limbs at will. Letting the rope abrade his skin and set his nerves on fire.

Long, skillful fingers brushed against Thrawn’s bare chest, forming segments of wide-spaced rope loops up and down his abdomen, his shoulders, his arms, until a tight latticework scraped against his muscles every time he so much as twitched. Looking down at himself, he saw broad planes of blue skin framed by what looked almost like a wide-spaced net, the knots — each one of them — forming a singular, undeniable message:

 _Mine_.

His hands were next. Ba’kif knelt down, his hips pressing tantalizingly against Thrawn’s exposed cock, their abdomens brushing against each other as he reached over Thrawn’s head and pulled his hands down. His lips found the inside of Thrawn’s wrist, kissing his pulse point even as he wound rope around his wrists and cinched the knots tight. Stray fibers caught on Thrawn's skin, irritating his nerves, making his cock jump.

A length of rope, perhaps six inches long, stretched between Thrawn’s wrists. He had scarcely enough time to wonder what it was for before he felt Ba’kif’s strong hands bending his arms gently at the elbows, curling his left arm up until it was wrapped around his neck in a tight, almost comforting embrace. His fingertips brushed his own shoulder blade; blood tingled beneath his skin; when Ba’kif bent his other arm up, crossing it beneath the first and guiding Thrawn’s hand to his own throat, Thrawn’s breath stuttered, his cock twitched. Pre-cum leaked from the slit so slowly and steadily that he only knew it was there by the growing sensation of slickness on his thigh and stomach every time Ba'kif moved his legs.

The six-inch length of rope was moved behind his head, where it was in no danger of choking him. Ba’kif kissed him again, trailing soft, chaste kisses through Thrawn’s hair, over the shell of his ear, down what little of his throat remained exposed, across his hands. Ba’kif’s fingers found Thrawn’s nipples, then brushed over them to the coarse ropes nearby and dragged them closer, until the material was scraping over Thrawn’s nipples harshly enough to make him arch his back and moan.

Warm hands found his thighs, spread them gently but insistently apart, and Thrawn let Ba’kif move him with a full-body tremble he could do nothing to hide. His cock bobbed against his stomach, the furl of his entrance exposed to the air, to Ba'kif's lips and tongue. 

A wooden bar was slipped beneath the vulnerable flesh of his knees, bending them upward until they were almost touching his chest. Thrawn gasped, the smooth wood cool against his skin. He felt Ba’kif trail kisses over his calf, the inside of his ankles, the soles of his feet, each kiss soft and torturous before he bent Thrawn’s legs up further, spread them wider, until the angle was just painful enough to make him moan again.

And then, working slowly — taking his time — Ba’kif tied a knot to the wooden bar. He showed Thrawn the slip he’d made, capturing his lips in an open-mouthed kiss when he saw that Thrawn understood. The slip connected to the ropes around his wrists; another length, clutched loosely in Ba’kif’s hands, would serve as a pulley.

Thrawn’s breath hitched again, and this time, he couldn’t seem to catch it. He watched Ba’kif’s hands move over the length of rope, pulling it taut — the tension in the ropes jerking Thrawn up by the hands and pulling the wooden bar beneath his knees up for balance at the same time. 

There was a sense of weightlessness — of floating — of giddy, preternatural rightness as the bed ceased to exist and Thrawn found himself in the air. With his hands tied and his arms crossed over his chest and neck, he had no way to defend himself; his abdomen twisted, the muscles there tightening as Ba’kif’s rope contraption swayed just to the right side of painful. 

The wooden bar kept his legs up and his knees spread, his cock and entrance on display, easily accessible to anyone who wished to take the bait.

He felt Ba’kif’s tongue, wet and hot and unstoppable, between his legs, ghosting over his thighs and dipping into his entrance again, and he had to close his eyes against a wave of pleasure so intense it threatened to undo him. Mentally, he cataloged the meanings of the knots Ba’kif had used over and over again, each one pulled tight enough to draw ecstasy from Thrawn’s skin.

 _Mine_ , they said. _Mine to take, mine to hold, mine to hurt, mine to protect._

_All mine._


End file.
